Differences: Outlines
by Leona 'Jay' Jasmin
Summary: Part 2 of the Differences Series. Sometimes you have to see behind the lines to see the full picture. With Alfred and Matthew, that's it. Nobody ever see's Matthew there, until an albino with a dark past helps him when he's about to give up on everything...PruCan side of the story, other pairings involved. Rated T for England and Romano's language and France being France. Human AU.
1. Gilbert's Story

**OK, so I know I'm only about a third of the way through Childhood, but apart from the final part (or is it?-Part 6), they can be read any order, as they are all set around the same time. I may upload the other parts before this is finished too. Hope this is awesome enough for you; some of the authoress' ancestors are Prussian, after all (no kidding). **

**Also, Amery means Divine in Germanian meaning and Hard-Working in Prussian meaning. Armen, an OC made up for Gil and Luddy's father's name means Army man in German meaning. I researched it.**

**WARNING- 4 Character Deaths- Three are OC's (all parents of canon characters) and one a canon character.**

The blonde haired woman smiled softly as her three year old child scrambled into her arms. Her beautiful son, Gilbert Amery Beilschmidt. The young boy looked just like his father, a patriotic German soldier who had died just a week ago fighting for his country.

From the boy's unusual red eyes to his platinum blonde hair, young Gilbert was perfect in her eyes.

Heidi Beilschmidt was a happy woman, living with her father, who she adored, the silent and serious Amery Germania (where Gilbert's middle name had come from), in an out-of-the-way house in the British countryside, although they were all German through and through. There was only one house connecting theirs, and neither of the two household's really bothered with eachother, apart from Gilbert with their daughter, Elizabeta, who were close friends of around the same age.

As a child, Amery had found friendship with Romulus Vargas, a slightly dopey, but artistic Italian, who was a top designer now. No-one was quite sure how the silent, serious German and the crazy, wild Italian got on, but they somehow did, but Amery did consider strangling him on more than one occasion. Romulus was living happily with two fully grown daughters, who had long moved out, both daughters. Jeanne, the eldest was married to a Frenchman and the two of them had a son, Francis, who Heidi had only seen pictures of. Recently though, Pascal, Jeanne's husband, had been struck with a rare cancer and would probably only survive until his son's fifth or sixth birthday, and Francis was already two, nearly three, the age gap between Gilbert and Francis being just under five months.

Maria, the youngest of the two, a suspicious type (though no-one knew if there was a reason), had one son, born somewhere in between the two mentioned, named Lovino, and was pregnant with another.

As Heidi snapped out of her daze, she saw two small pale-skinned feet, the body attached trying to make a dive for the floor. Grabbing the young albino's ankles, he yelped, writing around, but eventually gave in.

"Gilly," she started, using his pet name as she stroked her hand through his platinum blonde hair. "Mumie has something important to tell you."

"Was?" he said looking into his mother's eyes. His German accent flowed perfectly, and he was already bilingual between German and English.

"Well, let's just say, you're going to have a little bruder in a couple of months' time."

Two red eyes widened, before everything came out at once. "What's he going to be called? What date? Is he going to be as awesome as me? Wait, that's impossible!"

"I was thinking of a nice German name." Heidi mused, ignoring the last part of Gilbert's questions, but softly smiled at them. "He'll be born sometime at the end of April or the beginning of May."

"But that's ages away! It's only February!"

"I've known since November. Did you think a baby pops out just like that? It's got to grow, Gilly, it takes nine months to."

"Rommy told me that Mumie's can buy seeds from the baby shop, eat it and have a baby!" Rommy was Romulus' nickname to the children.

"Well, you'll find out when you get a little older." Heidi said, knowing she shouldn't mention how a baby was actually born, since Gilbert had only just turned three last month.

Heidi started rubbing her stomach softly. Feeling a kick, she grabbed her son's hand and placed it where the kick had hit. "Feel anything?"

The young boys head shook, his hair flailing wildly, but once the baby kicked again, he smiled and nodded.

"He kicks stronger than you did."

"You're joking!"

"Nein. The doctor said so aswell. Remember Doctor Eastwall?"

"Mumie, I promise to be the most awesome big bruder you have ever seen!" Gilbert promised, after nodding to the previous comment.

"I know you will, Gilly, I know."

~x~

Amery grumbled to himself, but smiled at his grandson. Since baby Beilschmidt was to enter the world within the next twenty four hours, a very excited albino was running around, having just told his neighbour and close friend, Elizabeta.

Amery had one eye on the mischievous boy, another on the phone. A friend of his, who was a midwife, promised to call him as soon as the baby was born. Heidi had been complaining of back pains in the morning, and soon after, the waters broke. Amery had wanted to be with her, since her husband hadn't been with her, but she pleaded for him to stay with Gilbert, and he couldn't say no to that.

"Can you _please _stop jumping around for five seconds?!" Amery moaned.

"Nein." Sometimes he felt like throttling that kid. And now was one of the times.

_Bri-_

"Hello?"

"Congratulations, another grandson."

Amery sighed with relief, but he realised that a tense aura was on the other side of the phone. "Is something the matter?"

"I'm sorry, Amery. There were complications, we-we couldn't save your daughter."

That second broke everything. First Armen in January, now Heidi, exactly three months afterwards. How was he going to tell Gilbert?

"D-did Heidi name him before she-?"

"Yes, he's called Ludwig. Though she didn't know whether he should have her surname of the father's."

"I see. I'll come over now."

"Thank you, Mr. Germania."

~x~ THREE YEARS LATER ~x~

"Stop kicking me!"

"I wasn't!"

"Can you two stop arguing for five minutes?! Please?"

"He started it!"

"No, you did!"

"Gilbert! Ludwig! You're purposely trying to annoy me, aren't you?"

"Nein, sorry, opa."

"Ja, obviously."

Daggers were shot at Gilbert from all angles of the table. The four people (The fourth of them living with them, though he kept himself in his room or out with friends, so was hardly seen) sat around the dinner table of the quiet November night, picking at and eating parts of their food.

That was when the doorbell rang.

"Nobody ever comes around here. Especially during Winter." Amery muttered to himself as he got up from his seat to answer the door.

Meanwhile, Gilbert and Ludwig gave eachother a look. "It's your fault I got into trouble."

Ludwig gave his older brother a cold stare. "You learnt that of opa." Gilbert remarked.

The younger of the two shrugged, before going back to eating his dinner.

"Why is it I'm always the one-"

BANG.

"What was that?!" Gilbert said, racing for the door.

Meanwhile, the other member of the household had blocked his path, going into the room the noise came from, the front hallway, and shutting the two brothers out.

Gilbert turned around to his three year old brother, who had also disappeared. "Ludwig?"

The younger of the two appeared from under the table, as curious from the noise as the elder.

A yell came from the other room, before the other occupant came back in.

"Both of you need to get out of here and go somewhere they won't find you."

"They?" The two asked at the same time.

"It doesn't matter, you're too young. Now you have to get next door, but you can't come through here. You'll have to get over the fence somehow."

"We can't climb that!" Gilbert said, folding his arms. "Especially not Ludwig, how will a three year old climb that?"

"You'll have to think of something. Come on, Gil, I know you're smart enough to figure out something."

"O-of course, I'm the awesome one!" The young albino faltered at those words, as he realised the only way. They didn't share a gate, so they would have to get upstairs and climb across the outdoor window-ledges. The lower ones would still make them too low to climb over the fence, since it was six foot high.

Gilbert then nodded, still freaked out by the noise. "What happened though?"

"I'll tell you when I've finished what I have to do." The eldest of the three, almost in his teens, could feel tears welling in the back of his eyes. _Why do I have to do it?_

Gilbert was surprisingly mature when he needed to be, so quickly grabbed Ludwig's hand, before racing for the stairs. In the background, he could hear a vehicle drive off, but didn't look. Once he and his younger brother made the top of the stairs, the elder signalled to go into Amery's bedroom, the closest room on the back half of the house to their neighbours.

"You have to climb out the window, Ludwig."

"Was?! I'll fall!"

"Ludwig, you've got to do it. I'll follow you straight away."

Taking a look at the drop, Ludwig eventually heaved himself out the window. Since he was still only three years old, he didn't have too much trouble about hanging off the edge, and neither did Gilbert. The six year old, who was now holding the maturity of an adult in his hands, tried to look for somewhere easier to jump to. _I might have a small chance, but Ludwig definitely isn't going to be able to jump to their ledge._

The trampoline.

Before Ludwig could react, he felt himself falling. Yelping slightly in shock, he felt himself slam against a tense material, which quickly bounced him around a few times before it stopped. Getting up and staggering a few paces, he threw up in a bush.

Ludwig was quickly followed by his albino brother, who scraped his cheek on the fall. Wiping some blood from the cut, Gilbert got up and stood next to his brother. The colour had completely faded from the younger's face.

From all the calamity, the household owner opened the door. Mr Héderváry was a positive young man who moved from Hungary three years ago with his daughter, Elizabeta. Her mother passed away in a car accident, and he wanted him and his daughter to have a fresh start.

All he expected was a fox or something taking a quick trip through his garden, but when he saw the two Beilschmidt brothers, the younger throwing up, he quickly went into action. Carefully avoiding his weapon of choice in any situation, a _frying pan, _he brought the two boys into the house. Elizabeta watched the whole scene from the stairs without a word, although she was meant to be asleep.

But the truth was, Mr Héderváry knew exactly what had happened in the house attached to them, before he even heard the gunshot.

Amery Germania had been murdered, and the whole thing had been planned out, and even Amery himself knew of it.

**Why did I kill so many people off in this chapter? I feel so evil! Also, frying pans run in the family, OK?**

**OK, so I did some research for this chapter:**

**First, Ludwig's birthday is 30****th**** April, since he doesn't have a confirmed one in Hetalia. It's the death date of Hitler, since I didn't want to make it his birth date. Second, he doesn't have a confirmed surname either, though Amery just kept it Beilschmidt so it was the same as Gilbert's. It could be anything; I haven't given their dad a surname.**

**TRANSLATIONS:**

**Opa= Grandfather**

**Was?!= What?!**

_**If I have made a mistake, please tell me. I am hopefully doing a course in German next year sometime, but as of now, I am doing Italian, so please bear with me for now.**_

**All will be revealed about the mystery character near the end of this story, his name, what he's got to do, everything.**

**Serious, Mature and Brotherly Prussia this Chapter! I love writing him when he's like that. They seemed like adults in this. Excuse: Germans were made to be mature; they sent TEN YEAR OLDS into WWII. Bad Germany.**

**The next chapter is Canada's point of view, and he's going to get a beating. Be warned. **

**Thanks for reading!**


	2. Matthew's Story

**Guess who's going on a trip to the WWI trenches in France in April? Oui, moi! I'm so excited!**

**This is set in British school times, so this is less than a week after the North American twin's birthdays.**

**If you've read the Last Chapter, you will know this contains a lot of depressing and upsetting things. This chapter includes self-harming and Russians (I got asked by a Russian if I wanted to go and stay with a Russian my age on Thursday…same happened with a German teacher two weeks ago…). Also, a man who looked suspiciously like Berwald tried scanning my sunglasses case, then laughed like an idiot when he realised today…**

"Having fun, Matt_spew?"_

The icy cold water stung. Biting back his true reply, he decided to remain silent.

"Answer him, then, fag!"

Another round started. The three boys surrounding the fourth cheered as the fourth yelped. After another five rounds had happened, the three left. The fourth, however, felt salty tears dripping down his cheeks.

It was a Wednesday school day, two weeks off the Summer Holidays. Just another average day for (recently-turned) teenager Matthew Williams. Leave school with his elder twin brother, Alfred, walk on ahead once their parents couldn't see them, and then get beaten the hell out of. Punches, kicks, getting his head shoved down the toilet and 'swirlied'…

Alfred, one of the school jocks, tried to stand by his side, but Matthew was scared it would happen to him to, and rejected his help.

His school uniform was drenched. He knew if he called his mother, she would want to know, it was two weeks off the Summer Holiday's after all, and Water Fights weren't allowed until the last two days, and there were two teachers who usually were the culprits, pouring water down unsuspecting girl's backs. That started off most of the boys and tomboy's in the school carrying it on. Matthew usually got drenched by Alfred and the Bad Touch Trio; he remembered to take a second uniform on those days, sometimes a third…

Back to the modern day. Instead of finding an alternate way to get another uniform from the P.E. department or Lost and Found, Matthew locked himself inside a cleaner toilet cubicle and kept as quiet as he possibly could (and since he was naturally quiet, it wasn't hard). It was homeroom time, and Citizenship, he knew his tutor wouldn't be bothered it he was absent because of a reason like this. She knew what was happening, but when Matthew pleaded her not to tell his parents, she couldn't think of any way to possibly help the young North American. Apart from Alfred, she was the first to know.

Eventually, somebody walked in. Matthew had no clue what time it was, but it had been less than an hour. Hoping it was someone who wouldn't carry on with the torture, he put even more effort in staying quiet.

"Mattieu? I can only guess it's you in there."

Matthew sighed in relief as the French accent hit him. Francis was friends with some of those who gave him the beatings, though he would leave them if he found out. Matthew refused point blank to tell anyone those who actually were giving him the grief; otherwise all hell would break loose.

The two of them had a relation going back roughly about five years. Francis, at this point a timid eight year old, had just been moved to Grange, the school the two attended. The two had quite a lot in common, apart from Francis was now a lot more confident and louder than he was then, and Matthew couldn't get his head around all the flirting Francis did. If _he _were to ever flirt, it would be out of this place and it would be someone he truly loved, not the first guy he met.

The truth behind all the beating was because of the old school truce. The first person to be found out gay would go through a hard time and a lot of beatings. Alfred had made it a lot more obvious, though it wasn't his fault- it was just the fact he was masculine and brash, while his younger brother was quiet and feminine.

Matthew gingerly fingered the lock, slowly opening the door. Since his glasses had been thrown off long before (If _they_ took them with them, it would only be evidence), it took him quite a bit of effort to focus. Both he and Alfred wore glasses, although only Matthew needed them. But Alfred was adamant if his brother had something, he had it too, because 'that's what twins did'. He remembered his father's cheeky smirk as he ruffled the elder's hair, as he was a twin himself, with his sister, Alice, who had a son, Arthur. Arthur stopped going to their school just before Francis came, and he hadn't heard of him since.

Eventually making his surroundings form, since he had had his eyes shut thinking of 'pointless things', he managed to find the Frenchman standing about three feet away from him, and just made out a concerned look on his face.

"Not again, Matthieu," Francis started, his blue eyes brimmed with empathy for his friend. Even though he usually stuck with Gilbert and Antonio, when he moved after the 'incident', Matthew was the first person he could call a 'friend', and could trust his secrets with. Especially when he told him why he had ended up moving schools [1].

Matthew simply glazed over, not fazed at all. "You should go and see the Councillor. He should be around today; I've seen him before, he's a bit intimidating, but good once you look over that." Matthew heard Francis fumbling around by the sinks, and eventually, something was placed on the bridge of his nose, and suddenly, he could see again. Seems as though his glasses had been thrown in one of them, and the person who did so thought it would be a laugh to fill it up with water. Steam was blocking most of his vision, but it was enough.

Wiping as much as the steam as he could off, he ended up getting dragged by the Frenchman to the office, and literally forced to sit down on the chair outside the door marked 'engaged'. Slightly wincing at the pressure, he saw Francis cringe as he realised, before going to the desk and lowly speaking about something Matthew couldn't quite catch. As soon as the conversation broke up, Francis left Matthew on his own.

After flicking through the school magazine- which was just all the main events of the last three months, and going through his French homework- which took ten seconds since he was already fluent in the language, the door finally opened and somebody walked out. Five minutes later, as Matthew had his head engrossed in World History, the door opened and he was called in.

The Councillor's name was Ivan. Despite Matthew being tall for his age, he still had to tilt his head at an angle to look up to the taller man. From hearing his greeting, he could tell he was Russian, and the faint smell of Vodka was in his breath.

"You come to see me, da?"

"O-oui."

"Come and sit in here, then."

Once the two of them got settled down, Ivan used his way of words to get everything out of him without Matthew actually realising. He vaguely recognised the man; he was the sister of Natalya, the scariest woman in the town, and the adoptive father of Toris and Eduard, who were in the year above him, and Raivis, who had just started at nursery.

After the two talked for about half an hour, Ivan walked out of the room, saying he would be back in a moment. Meanwhile, instead of looking at the door, playing with his thumbs, or something someone would, his eye was on the pencil sharpener. _What am I doing?_

Finding a screwdriver among all the things on the desk, Matthew used it to unscrew the blade. As one teacher quickly came in to see whether the elder was in the room, he quickly pretended that he was actually looking for something, and he had been asked to look for it on the desk while the Russian looked in his car. Surprisingly, Matthew was actually better at lying than his twin brother, although he only did so if he needed to. Now was an example.

Finally finishing his fumbling around, he lightly placed the blade just his left wrist. The metal was cold to the touch, but as Matthew slid it along his pale skin, it felt more soothing.

As the blood started to trickle slowly down his arm, Matthew couldn't help but stare at it. _It's so beautiful…_

Eventually satisfied with his work, and feeling…_refreshed, _he quickly tried to find the first aid box. The cuts weren't too large, since it was only a pencil sharpener blade, but some were deep. Using some tissue to wipe up the blood, he tried using as few plasters as he could to cover it up. _If there's too many, people will get suspicious…_

Luckily, Ivan didn't come back in until the box had been put away, Matthew's sleeves were rolled up, the blade had been screwed back on, and the sharpener and screwdriver were back in their original places. After talking for another ten minutes or so, he was dismissed.

Checking the time, he noticed it was about half-way through French, a lesson he could actually cope with, since he had learnt quite a bit off of his bilingual mother. His parent's didn't live together when they were born, so Matthew stayed with his mother, Alfred with his father. This was also the cause of the two of them having different surnames.

Eventually making his way to Miss Blakeless' class, which was full of screaming and shouting, he quickly opened the door and slid into his seat. The teacher acknowledged him, knowing he really didn't want a scene made.

Alfred, who was sharing the desk with him, gave him a look, before pulling the younger twin so his ear was next to his mouth. "What did those bastards' do this time?!" he hissed.

_I really don't need Alfred being this overprotective at this moment in time…_"I'm fine, I'm just a little wet…"

"Mattie! You've been sitting down for ten seconds and your chair is drenched! How can you say 'just a little'?"

"Alfred, I really don't need-"

Matthew yelped slightly at the force of Alfred smacking him. The elder of the two really didn't want to do so, but he knew it was one of the only ways getting his head back to normal.

"I know you're the better liar Mattie, but I get twinstincts, remember? I know exactly how you feel and where you've been hurt." Alfred's hand snaked slowly down from his face to his left sleeve. _Shit!_

Knowing he had a lot of strength when he needed, his natural instincts kicked in, and he started struggling. Alfred, however, had managed to pin him across the two chairs' they had been sitting on, and had sat on his brother's legs.

"No! Please don't! They didn't do that!" Matthew shouted (or spoke louder than usual), as Alfred started revealing the array of plasters.

"Then who did?"

"I did!"

"What the hell?!" Alfred said in shock, before his voice lowered to a growl. "You're just doing that so I don't go and kill them, aren't you? I swear I will-"

"No, I'm not." He said softly, lowering his voice so only his brother could hear him. The two of them were in the back left corner, and they had already got looks of the whole class with the commotion already. "Please don't tell anyone," He knew his brother was really bad at keeping secrets, he would usually tell someone eventually. So, to be sure, he added something on. "If you don't, I'll make sure you're little secret doesn't go unheard."

"What, no! My secret had nothing to do with yours!" Alfred said, crawling off of his brother. "Tell them for all I care, if they beat me too, I'll make sure they leave you alone and take if for both of us."

Matthew's violet eye's glistened. _If someone found out he was gay too, he would take the beatings for me?_

At this point, Matthew tried standing up, but became a crumpled mess on the floor. A sudden burst of mixed emotions mixed Alfred, making him realise exactly what was happening. Matthew was having a mental breakdown, and thoughts of suicide were shooting through his mind.

Miss Blakeless, Francis, and some other close friends of Matthew ended up circling the twin, who was slowly falling out of consciousness. After Miss Blakeless made everyone apart from his 'partner in crime', go into the other classroom, Matthew had eventually dropped over into a foetus position, and knocked himself out.

Just before she ordered everyone out, Miss had quickly scribbled a note and gave it to Francis so they could call his parents and get him picked up. As the Frenchman poked his head around the door, informing them, Alfred picked his brother up bridal style, and went to the entrance of the school, where they would be picked up.

_Matthew, why are you hurting yourself when you already hate other's doing it to you?_

**[1]- If you haven't read Childhood, Francis ended up moving schools because he was adopted. His father was diagnosed with Cancer when he was 2. He won the first battle, but lost almost automatically when it returned. Francis was five when this happened. His mother, depressed of losing her soul mate, ended up taking and dealing drugs. The police got a tip-off, and Francis, now eight, was separated from his mother, who still lives in jail, as 'mentally ill'. Francis moved in with his adoptive mother, Mrs. Downham, who at this point was also looking after Gilbert and Ludwig. Antonio came a couple of months later. She died a couple of years later, but, under a lot of supervision, they still live in her apartment without her there.**

**So, there is the second part to the Introduction! I will be going on to the main plotline now, though should I do what I have done in Difference's, and write in first person for the first part, then revert back to third, or just stay in third person? Thanks for reading!**


	3. Chapter 3- Matthew

**OK, so I know I did a really bad Councillor part, I have never had one, but due to 'reasons'- which I can PM you if you want to know, though I won't say it in public- I am getting one now, and I will write a better scene later on. Also, I might be able to write more during Christmas, but all my close family (who live all over England), are coming over, so I may not, just in case :) Also, I am doing the same I did in Childhood, writing in 1****st**** person until the main-main part. Chapter titles are whose POV it is. Enjoy!**

**Warning- Suggestions of rape. I'm thirteen; the only sex I've seen is cartoon- My Science teacher played us a video from the seventies, saying 'When this dies, I quit my job'. Then he taught us about errections with a plastic thing. This was 2 years ago, I was 11. Poor 11 year old me.**

"Alfred, wake up."

"No. Tired." He simply replied, rolling over and going straight back to sleep. I wish I could do that, I ended up staying up hours before I could manage to finally drift off, and then usually ended up waking up half an hour later.

Prodding him in his chest, I added "Alfred, it's the first day of school. You don't want to get screamed at by one of the teacher's like you did last year again, right?"

"I really can't be asked. My bed's all warm and I'm all wrapped up and warm~"

"Just get out now. I don't want to go either, but I've already had a shower and am about to get dressed. I'll send Arthur in." This woke him up almost automatically. Six days ago, Alfred and I had gone to see our cousin, since we hadn't heard anything from either him or Aunt Alice for the past five or six years. But, we ended up finding that in that time, he had been heavily abused by Aunt Alice. Now, she had been sentenced ten years for Child Abuse and Arthur was living with us.

Let's just say, Arthur really didn't like anything apart from things he, well, 'liked'. And Alfred F. Jones was the sort of person who pissed him off to the hills.

As I watched Alfred rush around getting his own clothes sorted out, I got myself dressed. I wasn't usually so 'open' about my naked body, but since Arthur (who was homophobic) was downstairs and Alfred was gay himself, I wasn't so bothered. After all, we were born naked, animals are naked; humans are just so- sensitive.

Keeping my arm's securely wrapped in bandage (I went a little too far with the blade last time, the knife looked like Jack the Ripper used it), I made sure that none of the events of the last escapade were visible. Luckily, I had mastered the tactic over the summer.

And, after Alfred had finally got sorted out, we all had had breakfast, and we're ready to leave, the normal scenario happened, with the addition of Arthur. As I sped up at a quicker rate, I heard Arthur questioning Alfred what the 'bloody hell' was going on, but he had only just started when I was out of earshot.

"Hey, Williams, want to play a game?"

I felt myself to be lifted up slightly by Sadik, one of the three beating the hell out of me. This wasn't because I was smaller than him, it was just a threat. "W-what game?" I managed to stutter.

"Something that may actually man you up." Meanwhile, Carlos snickered in the background. Carlos actually used to be a close friend, but, he ended up thinking I was Alfred all the time, and since he hated Alfred- you can see where this is going.

Sadik slammed me in a cupboard, one that if it was closed, nobody went in. As he turned the light on, I could feel his hands toying with the bottom of my shirt. _I never wanted this to be sexual assault!_

And with this, the shirt went off, flung into the depths of the room. "How the fuck do you have a six-pack when you're so gay a blind cow could see it?!"

As he started poking, I whimpered. Though I didn't mind exposing my body, I hated people- especially those I didn't trust- touching it. If Alfred or Mom were to hug me, I'd be fine, but Sadik poking my bare chest? I didn't like this one bit.

Though, when I heard my zipper go down, I would've gone straight back to the poking.

"Bet your cocks so small I can't even see it. Perhaps even a vagina's there instead." _Don't go near me. _

Then, as he started getting even more 'sexual', on a natural reaction, I slapped him in the face. Hard.

Sadik's hand went straight to the mark, it had already bruised. This was my chance.

Quickly grabbing my shirt, pulling it on roughly and sorting myself out, I ran for it. Well, in the situation I was in, what else should I do?

As I tried to get as far away as I could from that- monster- I ended up finding that I was on the other side of the school building. Since it was now registration, I would probably be the one told off- not Alfred.

I ended up finding myself next to the Female Sports Teachers Changing Room. Now, just because I'm gay doesn't mean I wanted to see then walking around in their bra's and pants, I'm not a pervert!

As I slowly went around to my form room- since it was the first day, I didn't have a timetable, so I needed to get one, despite not wanting to go in the room- I made sure I wasn't still messed up. Luckily, only my shirt collar was still a bit ruffled, and I quickly sorted it out.

As I finally managed to get form room's door in sight, I ended up smacking against something hard and falling over. Dazed on the floor, I managed to make out the body of…Gilbert Beilschmidt.

"Better slow down, Birdie, running isn't awesome."

He stuck his arm out for me to grab, and when I did, he yanked me up. His red eye's met my own violet ones. They were so strange…yet so beautiful…

"T-thanks." I managed to mutter, about to walk off, before I felt Gilbert's hand grip tightly, so I was swung backwards.

"Birdie, skiving once isn't going to ruin your life. I want to know what happened."

"Urm…"

"Birdie, just tell me. Right now."

"Uh, OK…" I started, before slowly going through _everything. _

I watched Gil's eyes as I went through it all. His eyes seemed intent on getting every word out, so there was no point in leaving something out. He was the sort of person who could read you like a brick if he needed to.

"Matthew, that's just sick. Why didn't you tell anyone?" I knew he was being serious when he called me Matthew. Birdie had come from when he brought his pet bird in for 'pet day', and it ended up falling asleep on my head. Though, since he got it when he was only just seven (apparently he found it wounded on the street), it had been called Gilbird. Since then, there had also been Gilfish, Gilcat and Gildog, the fish died, the cat ran off, and the dog was someone's he had been to look after and had renamed it. For all I knew, Gilbird was still alive.

"I- I don't know…"

"Well, I'll beat the shit out of them. Nobody is going to hurt Birdie when the Awesomeness is around."

"Gil, we've only ever spoke in one science project, and now you're acting like you're my best-"

"Birdie, if someone is beating the crap out of you, then of course I'm going to get into your business. Just because my childhood was shit doesn't mean your teenager life has to be."

"What's so bad about yours?" I ventured.

Gil's eye twitched slightly, but he seemed cool enough to tell me. "My grandfather got murdered, I got told to get Ludwig and meinself the hell out of there, ended up smacking myself on the floor from a second story building aged six- which is why I have a mark on my left nipple if you vanna see sometime, got adopted, Franny and Toni came along, adoptive mother died, shit happened in between. If you want any details, just ask."

Well, that wasn't what I was expecting him to say, in the least.

"Hey, Birdie, if you wanna, you can come around mein place tonight. Toni will probably go out somewhere, Franny too, and Ludwig won't care." I noticed that this was an order instead of a question, so quickly nodded my head. If Gilbert Beilschmidt told you what to do, he wouldn't take no for an answer. It was kind of cute, to put it that way.

"Umm, Gil?"

"Ja, Birdie?"

"What lesson do we have next?"

"French again. It just doesn't make sense, why can't we just learn German instead? English did originate from the Germanic language after all. See, I taught you something new, and you're the smart one. Note that down so you don't forget, Birdie, OK?"

"OK." I smiled.

"Oh, and Birdie?"

"Oui?"

"I'm getting you helping me with my French. When Francis says it, it just sounds a lot of mess, since he thinks everyone knows it just as well as he does. Also, I see Kirky's back."

Kirky was Gilbert's annoying nickname for Arthur. Arthur didn't hate it as much as Artie, or Iggy, though he still didn't like it.

"It's a long story." I said, not wanting to go through another rant.

"OK, ja ja. So, about that French, help teach me when you come around tonight, please Birdie. I suck at it."

"So, exactly how much have you listened to?"

"Basically all I can say is: Bonjour, je m'appelle Gilbert. J'ai trieze ans." He said, an embarrassed smile creeping on his face.

"OK, you have a lot to learn."

**Jay's little pieces of info:**

**Reasons for the beating-giver's being Carlos (Cuba) and Sadik? Well, you all know Carlos', but there are some tensions in the real world between Canada and the countries around Turkey, though I'm not sure if it is WITH Turkey. But, since Turkey is the only one around there in Hetalia, I just added him in. It's a break from Heracles :)**

**And, all Gil said was his name and age, if you didn't know :)**

**My real long writer's block is gone! It came around at the beginning of October. I have a list of all my idea's I have ever come up with and just pick something I have made a plot for, and write it, and, for example, this story was born. **

**Long AN's, I'm sorry. Off to bed now, goodnight!**


	4. Chapter 4- Matthew

**Hope you all had a great Christmas! I got a new computer which I am on now. I'm also off school until January 6****th****, so I may be able to get more updates done; our family aren't celebrators, so I will have a lot of free time.**

School had finally finished.

After getting collared by Gil during 'French', it had been a pretty slow day. Maths had been this depressingly boring test about life in general that nobody wanted to do. Apparently, I had some minor problems in life, and I just needed to either write it down or talk to someone about anomalously, like Ivan. I just shrugged it off; I had to share a room with Alfred, who was known for snooping through my stuff, so writing probably wouldn't work either.

Geography was another small test about places in Europe, such as countries, capitals, rivers and seas. I managed to get thirty-six out of forty-two, but Sir said that was pretty good since I was born in North America- especially when Alfred only got seven. "Dude! I'm from North America, set me a test on that, ditching the Caribbean, and I'll get 100%!"

"That's hardly anything, Mr Jones." Mr Richardson said tutting. "After all, your younger brother managed to get twenty-nine more than you." As a way to try and make Alfred smarter (or at least try and become smarter), they always said 'younger' instead of 'twin'.

"It's true though!" Alfred said, pouting. "Not cool. Anyways, Mattie's the smart one, apart from Hockey, I'm better than him at sports!"

"Nobody cares, wanker. This is a Geography lesson; Sport has nothing to do with this."

"Arthur! Why you so mean?"

"Use grammar, idiot." Arthur said, before turning his back from Alfred.

"Harsh."

Sir, who hadn't been paying attention to them- or anyone in fact, ended up shouting for attention from the class. He probably could have been a bit quieter, but the class next door was playing music very loudly. I'm surprised that he didn't go and tell them to turn it down. Mr Richardson needed to learn what fun meant, and that was probably the thought of everyone, not just the troublemakers. "Next week, I am assigning you a project, and you will be with a partner I have chosen already!" This resulted in a lot of groaning. Everybody knew exactly what Mr Richardson would do, and that meant partnering people who hated each other's guts together. "The project will be to do a study on one continent. This means you have to have information on the continent in general, AND the countries in it. Mr Jones, that includes the Caribbean." Alfred, who was sat next to me, lowered his glasses down his nose and gave Mr Richardson a cold, hard stare. If the two were in the same class with another Mr Richardson, they would probably be paired together. "You will have two weeks after you and your partner have been assigned to complete it." He said, before the bell rang for lunch and everyone was 'dismissed' or ran out of the classroom, screaming about how much they hated the teacher.

English was a bit boring, Miss spent the whole lesson talking or trying to remember our names. She hadn't taught any of us, but knew a few faces. Apparently, we were doing WWI poetry. I loved doing WWI, especially what the British Commonwealth (such as the Caribbean, Australia, New Zealand, India and Canada) did to help. Apparently, the Canadian's were so scary; the German's always tried to avoid them.

The lesson went pretty slowly, but once it finished, I got out of my seat, waiting for Gilbert. The teacher had collared him when he was just about to leave the class, and she didn't look that happy.

Eventually, after five to ten minutes, she let him out. He was grumbling under his breath a lot, and obviously cursing her in German. "What happened?"

"She says I need to improve my English, because it's 'so atrocious that she can't even understand it'. Then she got a dictionary from her cupboard, stuck a sticker with mein name on it, and gave it me, saying that if it doesn't come back in pristine condition at the end of the year, she's going to call mein parents. Then she wondered why I got so pissed off when she said that."

"Y-you never told me what happened to your parents…"

"Well, mein father died before Ludwig was born because he was in the army and got shot, and mein mother had birth complications with him, and ended up dying maternally."

"Oh, OK." I said softly. I hated talking about death, and none of my close family had died, so it must have been a hundred times worse for him.

"So, Birdie, school ended half an hour ago, yet we're still here."

"Oh, I never noticed. Eh-heh~"

"Come on, I've got to show you the flat the awesome me lives in. It is pretty awesome, because I'm in charge; I was the first one there."

"Oh, OK…" I said quietly again as I got dragged off to the entrance I usually went out in. I roughly knew where he lived; if only he stopped dragging me…he even dragged me up the stairs once we got to the flat.

"I'm back~" Gilbert called out, obviously seeing if anyone was home. After about fifteen seconds, one of the doors leading into what I guessed was the bedroom opened, and Ludwig walked out.

"Hallo, Gil, Matthew." We _vaguely _knew each other. For example, we could point the other out if we were told to.

"Hallo, Ludwig." Gil said, before dragging me yet again into another of the rooms. It was another bedroom.

It was about the average size you get for a bedroom, enough space for everything to be fitted in snugly. There was also a double bed in the middle of the room, which had a sheet and duvet on. From what I guessed, it was probably his. It was also surprisingly clean for what I expected from Gil.

"Ja, I know my room is awesome, but can you please let me in, Birdie?"

I had only just realised then that I had been stood in the doorway, making no possible entrance to the room. I had also been the first one in, so I ended up blocking Gil from entering.

"Oh…sorry…"

"Birdie, you hardly say anything other than apologising or ending up trailing off." Gil said, throwing himself dramatically on the bed. "You're not a slave and everybody makes mistakes, just chill." He ended up pointing to an empty part of the bed. "Birdie, sit down. You look out of place standing there. It's not awesome at all."

I slowly sat down. It's not that I didn't trust him or anything, I just felt slightly out of place. As I finally ended up sitting down (it took around fifteen seconds), I ended up getting pulled back into a lying position. I yelped and scrunched my eyes shut, this was just the thing that the others would do!

"Birdie, I'm not trying to hurt you." Gilbert said. "You just smacked me in the face."

I slowly opened my eyes to see that Gil had gone into a crawling position and had his face just above mine. Didn't he realise that being gay was the reason I was actually here?

I could feel the heat burning off of my cheeks as he kept himself firmly planted where he was. I couldn't quite tell what he was doing, but he wasn't trying to hurt me, that was all I knew.

He kept me planted there for another fifteen minutes. I was probably as red as his eyes were when he finally moved and let me sit back up again.

"W-what did you just do?"

"Seeing if I can trust you Birdie. And you look so cute when you blush."

This turned me another several shades redder. When he lowered himself down again just to annoy me, I ended up slapping him in the face again.

"Birdie, that was mean!"

"You told me to stop saying sorry." I said, a large smirk on my face.

"I know I did." He smirked. "And, you completely went off what I was going to tell you."

"It was about something to do with trusting me, wasn't it?"

Gil nodded, before going to a well-protected drawer next to his bed. That was when I noticed he actually had a chain on his neck with two things on it, one I didn't quite see, the other a key. He opened the drawer using the key, and pulled out a small piece of paper. A photograph.

"I've never shown this to _anyone_. Not Franny, Toni, not even Ludwig." He said softly, holding it near his chest. By the looks of it, the piece of paper probably was _older_ than Ludwig. "But, if you don't tell anyone I have it, because I shouldn't, then I'll show you."

I nodded slowly. "I promise I won't tell anyone. I-I'll show you something of mine next time that I've got and only Alfred knows about."

"You don't have to, but here." He said, passing me the photograph.

I studied it carefully. It was of five people, four male and one female. Gil was obviously the youngest, you could recognise him from anywhere. The rest of them had blonde hair and blue eyes, Gil was probably that one member of the family that looks nothing like the rest of them. There was one about ten or so, and the rest adults.

"That's my grandpa," he said pointing to the eldest man. And I thought my hair was long for a male. "And those are my parents." He added, pointing to the other adults. Well, you could roughly see where Gil's looks had come from…

He never said anything about the fifth member though. "G-Gil, you never said about the other one in the photo…"

"That's me, Birdie, can't you tell?"

"No, the other other one."

"Oh…him."

"You don't have to tell me."

He then pinned me down again, knocking the breath out of me with the force he used. Putting his mouth by his ear, he whispered softly "If anyone finds about him, I'm in big trouble. You cross your heart not to tell?"

"Oui, I promise." I said softly.

"That there is my older bruder."

_Gilbert had an older brother?!_


	5. Chapter 5- Gilbert

**There is both Gilbert and Matthew POV in this chapter, but if this happens, I will put who come first as the chapter name. **

I could see the look on Matthew's face, trying to figure it out. _Gott, what have I just done?_

"Oh, um-"

"-I don't even know if he is even alive, he was with my opa when he was murdered."

"Oh, OK-"

_Just get off the subject! _"Hey, um, Birdie? You vanna hang around here tonight, like, sleep over?"

"OK!" Matthew nodded slightly, a small smile sprouting on his face. At least he wasn't as thick as Alfred, and knew I really didn't want to talk about it. "I just need to call my parents, if that's OK."

"Ja, sure. Go ahead." I said, shrugging my shoulders. "If you want to use the house- well, flat- phone, it's next to the kitchen door.

"I've got my phone." He noted, getting it out from one of the pockets in his bag. It wasn't one of the brand new ones, but one that did its job. He didn't seem like someone who would be on Facebook or texting all night either, so it was just a 'Matthew phone'. "And my parents, especially my papa because he's an ex-policeman, and still works around locally, don't answer strange numbers."

"Ja, I see the point." I said, rolling back down onto my bed, the cold pillow bristling against my skin. I watched as he scanned through his contacts, before finally finding the right one and calling it.

After a couple of seconds, he started talking. Though I couldn't understand a word he said. He sounded like Francis!

He disconnected the call and then smiled at me. "I-I just have to go and get some stuff quickly and then I'll be right back."

"What's with the French?"

"Oh, my mama's from the French part of Canada. She taught me, but Alfred couldn't be bothered to learn. She uses French when she speaks to me alone, and she was the one who answered, my papa's at work."

I nodded before he went back home to get some of his stuff. _Shizer, _that was close. If it was anyone but Matthew then Ludwig could have found out and-

"Um, hi Gil."

"You were quick."

"I only live down the road, just outside the council houses."

I nodded before moving over to let Matthew sit down again and flicked the small television positioned in the corner of my room on. "If there is anything you want on, just say." I muttered.

In the end there was nothing awesome enough, so we just settled for some random channel I randomly flicked onto.

I hadn't realised how weirdly Matthew had sat until now. He had his legs crossed loosely and each of his knee's either side of his jawbone. He was also leaning so far forward that his spine looked like it was about to snap. "What's with how you're sitting?"

"Um- I actually don't know." He said, slowly recoiling to a normal position.

"Something's up still, isn't it?"

"…I don't want to talk about it."

"Ja, I can see you don't."

"Um, I'm going to sleep now…if that's alright."

"Ja, OK…"

I watched him as he curled up into a foetus position and went out almost immediately. Waiting until the show I was watching had finished, because it had actually caught my attention, I went into the kitchen, got something out the fridge, and then went to sleep myself.

~x~

"Bad Touch Trio, One. Unawesome teacher, none."

OK, so it was partially my fault my Maths teacher was now covered in confetti, but Francis and Antonio helped. It was just my idea- that was why it pulled off so awesomely.

"Hahaha! You opened the door and everyone was like 'ooh, Sir's gonna get it', then you did and you were like 'Oh my feckin god what the hell just happened!', and your reaction was even better than when I did that to Mr. R!" Mr. McHavisham literally acted more immature than Feliciano Vargas, so I don't know how he became a Maths and Physics teacher.

"Fuck off Daniel!" Sir loved swearing. A lot. The word 'fuck' and 'fucking' were his personal favourites.

"I'm going home then. Féach leat!"

"Fucking reject! YOU FUCKING HEAR ME?!"

"I fucking hear you, Sir! Tá tú fucking a dhiúltú chun!"

"YOU HAVE FIVE SECONDS TO RUN BEFORE I FUCKING COME AND FUCKING STAB YOU!"

"That's nice."

Sir slammed the door in frustration, not before storming out and looking at how idiotic we were all acting. Heracles Karpusi was in the storeroom cupboard; chances are he was asleep, Antonio had just been thrown down on the floor by Lovino, he had probably just broken his neck, and I had just used it as an excuse to piss off people. Matthew was no-where in sight, he was in school, but not in the lesson. Sir looked like he wasn't coming back, so I used this as a chance to look completely awesome.

"Mr. Beilschmidt is taking over the class! Now sit down and act awesome, but not as awesome as the awesome me!"

"Aw, hell no."

"Fuck you, Alfred. Just get a textbook and look nerdy."

The only people in the whole class who actually willingly did something were Arthur and Kiku Honda. Everyone else then decided to have a rave to some dirty song someone (*cough* Frenchmen were completely innocent at this moment in time *cough*) had decided to put on. Shizer, this is _soo _unawesome.

~x~ -Change of POV: Gilbert to Matthew-

"So, you know that if you need to speak to me, you just come here or to my house, depending on the time, da?"

I nodded, folding up the sheet of paper with Ivan's phone number and address into a small square and sliding it into my trouser pocket. Strange thing was, he lived on the second floor in the flat Gilbert, Francis, Ludwig and Antonio lived in, along with his three adoptive sons and his two sisters, 'Kat', the eldest and Nat', the youngest. I always wondered why he suddenly freaked slightly and looked under the desk frantically when he mentioned Natalya.

"So, what lesson do you have now, Matvey?"

I checked the clock. Twelve exactly. I had been here two hours- that was bad, wasn't it? "Maths."

"I'll walk with you there if you want, da? I have to be over there in a moment anyway."

"Oh, um, OK." I said, getting up from my chair and grabbing the notebook on Ivan's desk. He had asked me to keep a diary to write up anything he thought I needed to discuss in it. I had mentioned mine and Gilbert's meeting yesterday, and what happened with Sadik in it. Ivan simply nodded after reading it and said he would tell my form teacher. At least that would be one less problem.

When we walked over to the Maths classroom, I ended up slowly shuffling. "Something is still the matter, Matvey, isn't it?"

"Non, I was just thinking. I hadn't realised I'd slowed down. Hehe, sorry about that..."

"Nyet, you don't have to apologise." Ivan said, his trademark (slightly psychotic) smile on his face. "Toris and Eduard do the exact same. It can get a bit irritating after a while, da?"

"O-oui, I guess…" I said, before hearing loud music blaring from one of the rooms. Listening to the lyrics, I cringed.

"Something wrong, Matvey?"

"It's just the lyrics to that song…It's talking about graphic sex in French."

"French people can be so perverted sometimes…" Ivan said, going off to his own fantastical world.

"Um, Ivan? I-I'm F-French-Canadian…"

"Oh, I never meant you Matvey. You're too sweet to be a pervert."

"Um…thank you."

"This is your classroom, da?" He said, pointing to the room in front of us.

Oh, merde. Neither Sir nor Mr McHavisham were in there, and World War III had occurred.

The sides? Well, there was three.

Side 1-

Gilbert- He was somehow trying to be the 'most awesome teacher ever', and was stood on top of Ludwig, laughing and topless.

Antonio- Currently getting killed by Lovino. Lovino was currently strangling him, and he was just laughing like he didn't care he had probably broken several bones.

Francis- Playing the most perverted songs of the French language. Believe me, English isn't a touch on what the French have produced.

Sadik- Making sure the storeroom door was shut, obviously shutting Heracles in (who else would he shove in there other than him or me?).

Feliciano- Somehow in the room, screaming at Lovino to stop killing people, very unsuccessfully. Lovino had his right hand around Antonio's throat, Feli in his left.

Side 2-

Alfred- Yelling that he could make a better teacher than Gilbert could, any day. Also being screamed at by Arthur, a dent from a heavy book on his forehead.

Heracles- Probably now asleep in the storeroom, despite it stinking of damp and its freezing cold. He also probably summoned his cat army, who will scratch Sadik's eyes out. Go Heracles' cats.

Lovino- Killing Antonio in the most slow, painful way possible. Antonio was currently in a headlock, but he was laughing like an idiot.

Ludwig- Currently being Gilbert's chair, despite being two years younger than us and meant to be in History. He looked very pissed off.

Side 3 (because there always has to be people fighting out of a war, the pacifists)-

Arthur- Trying to read, smashing himself with Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix (that must hurt, it was hardback, too) in the forehead.

Kiku- Being yelled at by Sadik about who he was closer friends with, him or Heracles. Kiku had sweat on his brow in nervousness, trying to read a textbook.

I opened the door to the classroom only to near enough be squashed by Gilbert who had just fallen off a very unimpressed Ludwig. "Shizer Ludwig! Sorry Birdie." He said after getting off of me, his face almost as red as his eye's in embarrassment.

"I-it's OK."

"Just give him this and it'll be all better!" Alfred yelled, throwing a bottle of something. It seemed their friendship had been brought back together, until it hit Gilbert in the head. "Ficken Hündin!"

"Sor-ree." Alfred added, clearly not.

"You'd better be." Gilbert muttered, examining the bottle.

Merde.

"Maple Syrup? Aren't Canadian's meant to go high on this?"

"Find out for yourself. I'm sure our Religious Education teacher would love to see him like that."

"Non, don't you fucking think about it, Alfred."

"MATTHEW JUST SWORE!"

"I swear all the time in French. Just because I said something in English doesn't mean it's brand new."

"Just drink it." Alfred said, shoving the golden liquid down my throat.

Merde, the next twenty four hours should be fun.

**Maple Syrup + Matthew (or Canadians in general) = Fuck. **

**Yes, you will have to wait for more information on big bruder, mwuhaha. Also, was this councillor scene better than Chapter 2's? **

**Féach leat means see you in Irish, and Tá tú fucking a dhiúltú chun means you're a fucking reject too. Mr McHavisham is Irish and proud. If you wondered, Mr. McHavisham and Mr Richardson are two beloved Teacher characters of mine. They will have their time to shine in EVERY story of mine involving school, apart from my one set in the sixties in another fandom. You can use them if you want, Mr McH is already in a Sims one. **


End file.
